


you set a fire in me

by verity



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Porn with Feelings, author is offended there is no tag for 'slow boning'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-25 06:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10758519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/pseuds/verity
Summary: This is the first time Yuri’s visited Otabek in Almaty.





	you set a fire in me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohmcgee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/gifts), [cunningplan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cunningplan/gifts).



> for cunningplan & ohmcgee <3 thanks to Ashe for cheering and to Mad_Maudlin for counsel about laundry practices in Almaty.

When Yuri slides open the glass door to the balcony, the breeze ruffles through his hair and past him to wave the towels drying on the line. The lights of the apartment across the courtyard filter through pale sheets like lanterns. Across the room, Otabek pauses with his hand against the window screen for a moment, fingers curving into the wind, silhouetted against the dusk-purple sky.

Yuri shrugs off his hoodie, tosses it on the floor, then hastily picks it back up to drape over the back of a chair. He opens his mouth to break up the quiet, but he can’t think of anything to say. There’s only Otabek, turning, and his studio flanked by twilight at one end and a numinous glow at the other. 

Otabek’s bed is in the middle, sheets still rumpled from when they crawled out this morning after a late night at the club. Yuri sits down to unlace his boots, belatedly—he’s doing this all in the wrong order. The first night he was here, he doesn’t even remember undressing; last night, they were both just the right side of drunk, easy and reckless with hungry mouths. They don’t get to spend more than two nights together very often. This is the first time Yuri’s visited Otabek in Almaty.

So he takes off his boots and shirt, kicks off his jeans, and lies down on the bed in the breeze and the silence. Otabek lies down next to him. Yuri feels more than sees the smile on Otabek’s mouth. He hums against Otabek’s lips and Otabek’s body rumbles with laughter. Yuri says, “Beka,” and Otabek drags the rough pad of his index finger over Yuri’s upper lip. 

The current in the air is cool, but they’re so close together—wrapped up as tightly as they were on Otabek’s bike today, without any leathers between them. Otabek kisses Yuri, covering Yuri’s cheek with his palm before he slides his fingers into Yuri’s loose hair. Yuri shivers. His chest rises with a sharp inhale, bumping against Otabek’s, as Otabek’s nose bumps against his. They meet and meet, face to face and chest to chest and thigh to thigh, and they’re still just kissing, open-mouthed. Yuri slides his hand over Otabek’s back and splays his fingers out between Otabek’s strong shoulders.

“You’re so quiet.” Otabek pulls just far enough away to speak. “Are you okay?”

Yuri’s lips feel hot. “Yes?” he says, flushing. “I don’t know, you started it.”

In answer, Otabek kisses the corner of Yuri’s mouth. Then they’re making out again, as slow as before, Otabek’s plush mouth yielding, his tongue brushing against Yuri’s, his hand cupping the sweaty nape of Yuri’s neck. They’ve been kissing long enough that Otabek’s mouth tastes like nothing—or like Yuri’s own, maybe. Yuri runs his own hand beneath the tight knit of Otabek’s undershirt, up and down Otabek’s back. 

When Yuri slides his thigh between Otabek’s, Otabek throws back his head, panting. He’s hard—they’re both hard, cocks pressed to each through thin fabric. Yuri wriggles out of his own briefs and drags Otabek’s down and over his ankles, then watches Otabek peel off his shirt. Emerging from the fabric, Otabek’s face looks so calm, even as his eyes jump to meet Yuri’s. His cock is flushed and heavy against his belly.

Whatever Yuri would say now would just—ruin it. So he doesn’t say anything. He just reaches over to the bedside table and finds the lube, pours too much on his fingers. Otabek spreads his legs, just slightly. Yuri has to close his eyes and take a deep breath. A trickle of lube runs down his wrist. He puts his hand between Otabek’s thighs and reaches back to circle Otabek’s hole, to work a finger inside. “ _Yuri_ ,” says Otabek, impatient.

Yuri reacts on instinct and slaps Otabek’s thigh hard enough that his own hand stings. They blink at each other for a long moment. Then Otabek laughs, and laughs, and Yuri wraps his slick hand around his cock. He has Otabek right where he wants on him, on his back, mouth still open as he urges Yuri in, guiding Yuri inside him. Yuri pushes in slowly, careful of Otabek as much as he is cautious of his own stamina. He feels like he’s been running for miles and they’ve barely done more than lie in this bed and kiss.

Otabek puts a hand on Yuri’s hip and keeps him at that same steady pace: no slower, no faster. Yuri has to bend over, bracing his elbows on the bed beside Otabek’s arms, pressing his mouth to Otabek’s inbetween rough breaths. Otabek is touching himself, his fingers brushing against Yuri’s abs on each upstroke. Their lips are just brushing together as they breathe into each other. Yuri’s back is soaked with sweat. He trembles as Otabek’s hips start to stutter, his hand bumping against Yuri’s ribs. Yes. Yes. 

Yuri screws up his face and says, “Beka, Beka—” and comes just as Otabek tightens up around him.

It takes him a while to catch his breath, face mashed into Otabek’s shoulder. Otabek is running his fingers through Yuri’s hair, pushing it back from his face. “Yura,” he says, very softly. “I think I got come in your hair.”

“Ugh,” says Yuri. He doesn’t move.

When he wakes up a little later, Otabek is still stroking his hair. The sun has set, but the light is still on across the courtyard. One of Otabek’s neighbors has the radio on loud, some Turkish pop station interrupted by ads for local appliance and auto chains. Yuri’s back is chilly, but his chest against Otabek’s feels so warm. He reaches back to tug the blanket over their shoulders. Everything else can wait for the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [ladyofthelog](http://ladyofthelog.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


End file.
